The Chrysalid Conspiracy (49 page)

“Of course,” Rayn replied as she struggled with Amelia’s boots, “and my mum, and probably yours. But in your case, we’re closed for lunch and I get weekends off.”

“You bitch,” laughed Amelia.

“Oh yeah,” said Rayn. “And I’ve even been measured for the uniform. So watch it,” she added as she pulled off Amelia’s jeans.

“Well, the safety pin didn’t hold, nor did the jeans I see. It’s just like my mum always told me, don’t forget to wear clean underwear in case you get run over by a horse”

When Maddy arrived, Amelia insisted they get her mother’s wheelchair back to her quickly, and remove the knives before they prompted some awkward questions.

While Lorraine went to find something for her to wear Maddy finished her silent examination of Amelia. Her offer to patch up Rayn’s scratches and bruises were greeted with, “I’m fine thanks” and ‘the good Doctor’ left without comment.

“While we have the chance,” Rayn said, “what was all that about concern for Ryxyl?”

“I’ve no idea,” Amelia answered. “I wasn’t expecting it and it threw me for a moment.”

“Well, she was lying about it. Totally,” announced Rayn. “Why would she do that?”

Amelia lay still, staring at the white painted polystyrene tiles on the ceiling. She was in even more pain after her examination and she wondered if it was revenge. “Misdirection, maybe?” she answered.

“No. She could have found a better example than that. I think we were deliberately goaded into our response. And if we were, what was she looking for? Surely she must have known about Ryxyl. She’s known her longer than she’s known us.”

“I don’t know.” Amelia ventured. “Perhaps it was for our reaction to this ‘end of the world thing’. Maybe they expected us to collapse in tears, not tell them they were going about it all wrong. But I don’t know, Rayn. I’m beginning to understand how that rat in the maze feels.”

“Well,” said Rayn. “Even the rats finally figure things out, so let’s not worry too much. Tell you what, let’s get you fit for duty again and relax for a while. Let someone else do the worrying instead. It’s their move.”

They made their way, slowly and painfully, up the old, unstable service lift to the next floor, with Amelia trying not to wince or make whimpering sounds. In the bedroom, they found Lucy sitting up in bed and Bridie sitting on the edge with her. Both women had red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained faces. The empty bottle of brandy stood on Lucy’s bedside table and they were both smoking cigars. Rayn lowered Amelia gently into an armchair.

“My God, girl,” said Bridie to her daughter, as she took in the blood-stained face, the hair sprawling over her like an erupting volcano and the mud-spattered wet jeans. “You look like you could use one of these.” She threw Rayn a packet of Slim Panatelas.

“Thanks Mum. How could you tell?”

“Hey, hang on a moment,” interrupted Amelia. “At least open a window. I’ve just been kicked in the crutch by a horse and I don’t want my lungs shredded as well.”

“It’s okay, Mum. I’ll keep one for later, thanks,” conceded Rayn.

“What did Dr Barrenborn say?” asked Bridie, nodding towards Amelia’s legs.

“She said I’ve suffered severe bruising between my legs, as if I didn’t know that already. My hip joints will hurt like crazy for a few days and I have to stay off my sprained ankle and knee for a while.”

“Bruised groin and sore hips,” Bridie said to Lucy and both women burst into a fit of giggles like a couple of schoolgirls.

“What’s so funny?” said Amelia.

“Oh, don’t be so naive Amelia,” Rayn whispered to her softly. “This is better than grief. They both loved George. Go easy.”

“I’m sorry, Rayn. I’m being self-centred again. I think you’d better find some more brandy. I’ve a feeling it’s going to be a long night,” and she gave Rayn’s hand a squeeze in appreciation.

***

It was, as it turned out, a very long night. So much so that it was nearly lunchtime before they were active again. The two women were well hung over but, strangely, felt better for it. Amelia opted to stay in bed, with occasional slow, painful walks to the toilet. Rayn found herself being a nursemaid, and Lorraine offered her the use of her staff.

Sometime later, a young lady member of the staff came in with a house wheelchair and, after helping Amelia into a dressing gown, wheeled her out.

“What’s all that about, I wonder?” said Lucy.

“Hmm?” mumbled Bridie. She’d wandered in from her bedroom and perched herself on the edge of an armchair looking like a cartoon caricature of herself, a huge pile of hair with a pair of feet sticking out the bottom. The hair suddenly parted and her face glared at the world.

“What? What’s what about?” she managed to say. There was a knock on the open door and Alyson Collins entered the room.

“Morning Lucy,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

“Morning Alyson. Almost human, thank you,” Lucy replied. Ever the optimist.

Alyson then turned to what looked like a pile of industrial waste. “Mrs Mgee?” she said gently.

The pile moved and Bridie’s face reappeared. “Who? What? Yes? And you are?”

“Alyson, the housekeeper. May I speak to you?”

Lucy laughed. “You can speak as much as you like. How much she’ll take in is anybody’s guess.”

“What’s the problem?” asked Bridie.

“It’s Rayn. We’re a little concerned,” explained Alyson.

Bridie was on her feet like a shot. One quick, well-practised movement and her hair was under control, face clear and alert. “Where is she? Is she hurt?”

“No, she’s just…” Alyson tried to say.

“Is she in trouble?” Bridie interrupted.

“No, of course not. She’s…”

“Well, stop blunder flustering around woman, and tell me.” She was shouting by now, fighting off fear, relief, and the effects of a bottle of Hennessey.

Lucy was in fits. Not so much at Bridie but the expression on Alyson’s face.

“We found her outside, kneeling by her horse. There were tears but no sound. We brought her in and made her sit. She recovered quickly but we thought you ought to know.” Alyson finished hurriedly and backed off toward the door. “We thought, under the circumstances, it might be a good idea if you would like to arrange for the disposal of the carcase.”

Rayn walked in at that moment carrying a tray of tea and coffee. Her face, which was bright and cheerful, changed quickly as Bridie made a dive for her. Alyson took the tray just as Bridie swept her daughter up in a giant hug. A confused Rayn was being crushed so tightly she imagined she would have to scrape her mother off with a knife.

“Hey, what was that for?” gasped Rayn when her mother released her.

“Horace,” said Bridie. “I’m so sorry, my love. I didn’t think. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, now you’ve let go,” answered an embarrassed Rayn. “I went outside for a few drags on that cigar.” She glanced at Alyson and continued. “I saw him lying on the grass. He looked so lonely, it didn’t seem right so I picked some flowers for him. But I’m fine now. He was very old and I’m glad he went out in a blaze of glory. Where’s Amelia?” she asked.

She reappeared at that moment, being pushed by a staff member, followed by an invasion of loaded food trolleys. “Pile in everyone.” Amelia advised. “I’m so hungry if I go first you won’t get a look in. And it’s a long walk from the kitchen.”

They moved back to the village that afternoon, despite Maddy’s invitation to stay as long as they liked. Bridie and Rayn made an attempt to finish the work on Lucy’s bedroom, but somehow the heart had gone out of it. They sorted out beds, with Amelia and her mother ‘quarantined’ in the living room. Bridie decided to go home to sleep that night. She said it was to take care of the animals, but was heard to mutter about a ‘health hazard’ and ‘Amelia’s room’ in the same breath. She also mentioned Antonio, but nobody said anything about that.

After Bridie had showered Lucy and herself, she settled Lucy down. Rayn helped Amelia and despite her inhibitions they were in the shower a long time, as if trying to wash away the pervasive aura of death. After a light supper they turned in for the night.

The morning brought some considerable improvement in Amelia, but she was tired after a disturbed sleep. She explained to Rayn that it was alien to her to sleep on her back and couldn’t get comfortable without moving. She stayed where she was and Rayn switched into top gear, getting Lucy up and dressed and then served up large breakfasts all round.

The three of them ate in the living room with Amelia on the sofa, propped up with pillows. Amelia insisted that they were not to discuss the events of the past forty-eight hours. There were too many questions and no answers, and none even lurking in the shadows.

Everything was conjecture, it was Monday morning and it was a day off and no arguments Lucy insisted.

Bridie turned up and ate ravenously, not offering any excuses for her hunger and early arrival, so they all drew their own conclusions.

An hour later Amelia had drifted back off to sleep and Bridie was helping Lucy sort out the damage to the greenhouse. Maddy’s tree was moved to Lucy’s lab and she hovered over it like some kind of dendrological midwife.

There was a knock on the front door and Rayn went through to point out the closed sign. The young woman outside shook her head and showed what looked like an ID card. Rayn opened the door.

“Excuse me. Sorry to bother you. I’m looking for Mrs Lucille Jaxson.”

Rayn resisted the temptation to ask her “Why? Where did you leave her?” and ignoring the ID card invited her in. Lucy came through and the woman introduced herself.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m Sheila Hawkes.” She offered Lucy her hand, but Lucy’s hands were covered in peat compost. “Oh, sorry, you must be busy. Apparently I’m your new physiotherapist.” She had an unusual accent, and had a way of raising the last syllable, turning each sentence into a question.

“Come on in,” smiled Lucy. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Thank you. I could do some serious damage to a cup of black coffee. I’ve been on the road for two hours.”

“I’ll get it,” said Rayn, recognising a kindred spirit. “Don’t tell me – strong, no sugar.”

“Yes, exactly. Thank you!” she said in surprise. Lucy found herself drawn to this attractive young woman. The skirt and jacket suit she wore was expensive, but modest. Her short brunette hair framed a face that was expertly made up and her shoes were to die for. This wasn’t your typical NHS employee. She was class, and Lucy became curious. The ensuing conversation proved her to be well educated and very intelligent.
This is more like it,
she thought, feeling guilty about Mrs. Orugo.

“My last physio came early evening. Will you be able to fit me in?” asked Lucy.

“Let me tell you a bit about myself,” said Sheila. “You are my only clients, so I’m free to come whenever you need me. I must warn you, I haven’t worked for a while. However, although I’ve never actually met her, the doctor wouldn’t take no for an answer, and so, here I am, and now I’ve met you I’m pleased to be here.”

Rayn made coffee and took Amelia’s into the living room. When Amelia was back on dry land again, she told her about the visitor with the strange accent.

“That’s an Australian habit,” she told Rayn. “What’s she like?”

“Very pretty. Young, intelligent and smart.”

“But?” Amelia could sense a codicil, a something extra.

“She’s hiding something,” said Rayn. “No lies, just a deception in there somewhere.”

“We all have those, Rayn. But keep an eye on it, would you please?”

“Sure thing, boss. But I tell you what. Whatever she’s hiding, she’s terrified of it.”

Bridie took to Sheila straight away, as had Lucy. They both had the same ‘down to earth’ attitude with the same sharp wit and humour. When Bridie said she thought Sheila looked familiar, Sheila responded quickly. “I doubt it, unless you’ve been down under lately.”

“As a matter of fact I have. But that’s another story,” laughed Bridie, and Sheila joined in when she caught the innuendo.

“This is too much,” laughed Lucy. “If I can’t control Bridie, how can I manage two of you? Sheila, come into the bedroom and take a look at what you’ve taken on. I haven’t had a session this morning,” and she led her through to her bedroom.

When Molly turned up a little later she stayed in the shop area, seemingly a little distracted.

“Hello Molly,” said Bridie. “Everything okay?”

“Everything okay?” repeated Rayn angrily. “How can you be so insensitive? After the weekend she’s had? Honestly mother, sometimes you’re hopeless.”

“But I only…” Bridie objected.

“But you only what?” said Rayn. “Molly’s worried about her job, can’t you see that?”

“Sorry Molly,” Bridie said. “Rayn’s right. But if she speaks to me like that again I’ll rip her tongue out.”

“What’s all the shouting about? Oh, hi Molly,” said Lucy as she came in. “How are you? Thanks for getting everyone to sort out the barbecue on Saturday, I heard about the way you had everyone organised into ‘chain gangs’. Absolutely brilliant idea.”

“Hello Lucy. Glad to see you’re better. I just wanted to ask when the shop would be opening again” Moly was visibly nervous.

“Molly’s worried about her job,” Rayn said.

“Of course,” said Lucy. “I’m sorry. It hadn’t occurred to me. I don’t know.”

“Only, now George is… well, no longer with us,” explained Molly, “Nigel doesn’t have a job and things are a bit awkward. We’ve even had to put our wedding on hold.”

“There’s plenty to do around here,” Bridie suggested to Lucy. “Rayn thinks she’s too intelligent for housework, and we owe Molly and Nigel big time for their help at the Hall on Sunday.” She was looking at Lucy while she spoke.

“Yes, you’re right Bridie. Molly, you are still employed on full wages if you want. I’d like you to keep us just above the environmental hygiene limits, if that’s all right with you?”

“Oh, thank you Lucy. I must go and tell Nigel. He’s feeling…”

Her voice tailed off as Sheila came in from the bedroom. Molly looked at her and gasped. “I know you,” she said. “That big sex scandal. The Australian rugby team. Couple of years ago. Wow.” Molly gave a wide grin. “I thought you looked familiar. Remember that headline, Bridie?”